Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. Vol. 133, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 811 & 812, March/April 2009

“I resent a lot of people,” I said.

She laughed and shook her head. “No, no. Let’s hear a confession from you. Fair’s fair, after all.”

I looked around at the ferns, the Eating Good in the Neighborhood signs, the Happy Hour crowd of car salesmen and young lawyers. “I really, really hate this bar.”

She touched the back of my hand with her fingertips. “Well then, let’s get out of here.”

I drove her to work the next morning. We’d locked her car and left it in the Applebee’s parking lot when she’d stumbled on her way out of the bar. Then we’d stopped at a Discount Liquors for a bottle of gin and a six-pack of tonic. We made it halfway through the bottle before we made it to her bed. I’d awoken at four in the morning, naked, shivering, hung over, sneezing from the cat hair under my nose. I thought about slipping away, maybe leaving a note to say goodbye. I didn’t, not because I’m Prince Charming but because I figured the least I could do was stick around to give her a ride back to her car. But she’d wanted to go to work instead and assured me that she’d walk over at lunchtime to pick up her car and maybe drown her hangover with a Bloody Mary. I parked in front of the Better Way Foundation and wondered if I should offer to walk her in or kiss her goodbye or do something foolish like send her flowers when I got back to my office.

“So,” she said, smiling. “This is the part where I say call me and you promise you will.”

“Sure,” I said.

She winked, touched my cheek with her fingertip. “How about this? I’ll just say thank you for last night. It was nice not to be alone. Call if you want. If you don’t, that’s okay too.”

She kissed my cheek, opened the door, and stepped out into the cold. I watched until she walked through the door, thinking that she looked old and worn in the morning light. But that was okay. I didn’t have the illusion that I looked any better. When she closed the door behind her, I reached to put my car in gear and happened to glance out my window. A chubby, round-faced man wearing a blue parka and green boots stood beside a rusted-out Oldsmobile, his lips lipstick red from the cold, his blue eyes narrow and angry beneath horn-rimmed glasses. I shrugged off his glare, put the car in Reverse, then changed my mind and jammed it back into Park.

“What do you want?” he asked as I approached him.

I held up a hand to show my good intentions. “Nothing much. You were staring awfully hard at the lady.”

“She’s a friend of mine,” he said. “I... I work here.” He gave me a petulant glare that made things a little clearer. “I just didn’t know she had a new boyfriend.”

“Oh,” I said, smothering my smile. “I’m not a boyfriend.”

He shrugged as if it was none of his business but couldn’t help but look pleased. The idea of Sandy as heartbreaker or the object of an elderly man’s crush struck me as funny, but I didn’t laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just curious.”

“It’s good you look after your friends.” I offered him my hand; he seemed reluctant but he took it. “Charlie Raines.”

“Freddy McFarland.”

“You answered the call from Lea Washburn,” I said.

“Who?”

“Suicide victim. A week or so ago. A student at the University of Memphis. You took the call and then Sandy took over from you.”

He frowned again. “Who are you?”

“Sandy’s friend.” I pulled my ID from my pocket. “And a private investigator working for Lea Washburn’s mother.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his face suddenly pinched and wary. “You should speak with Sandy then.”

“I have,” I said. “But you answered the call. I was hoping you might remember what she said to you, maybe if you heard any other voices in her room?”

He puffed his cheeks, glanced at the building and then back at me. “Lea Washburn,” he said. “Yeah, I remember her on account of Sandy took the call from me. She’s done that a couple of times, like she doesn’t trust that I know what I’m doing.” He shrugged and gave me a nervous smile. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. Sandy just does it because she cares so much, you know? She wants to save everybody.” He shook his head again and sighed. “Which means, of course, she loses more than the rest of us and it’s hard on her. I’ve seen how she suffers. Sometimes I’d like to...” He let his words trail off.

“You’d like to what, Freddy?”

“Knock some sense into people. Stop them from hurting her the way they do.”

His eyes watered, maybe from the cold, maybe from something else. He looked close to bolting so I decided not to push him. At least not yet.

“You didn’t hear anyone in the background when Lea called? A male voice maybe?” I asked.

“Just the girl. She said she was serious this time and I knew she was.”

“Okay,” I said and then his words registered. “This time?”

“She’d called a couple of times before, I think.”

“You took the calls?”